


Release and Discovery

by Sherlockspeople



Category: johnlock - Fandom
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 21:40:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3911626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlockspeople/pseuds/Sherlockspeople
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes hates that his body turns against him. Until he discovers John Watson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Release and Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Sherlock Holmes or the characters connected to his name.

He had frequented this place many times in the past several years. His body had certain needs that distracted his life when they were not met. With an angry protest Sherlock Holmes once again entered this house of pleasures.  
His coat was taken by a woman who had next to nothing on. She was attractive, in the most scientific sense of the term. Her portions were proper though one hip was slightly misaligned and she did lean to the left as she walked.  
The man in charge, a man he'd once assisted with a private issue always greeted him at the door, this night was no different.  
“Welcome back my friend.” They shook hands, though Sherlock despised the contact but it was proper.   
“As always my visit will be short. I will require a private room and the usual equipment.” He was stern in his approach.   
You see, if he had his way there would be a medical intervention to these sexual desires he possessed. His mind was finely tuned to the art of science and deduction but his body was still flawed and if he had his way Sherlock would be able to shut all this off.  
“Everything has already been set up for you. There will be a line up as always and you can chose whom you wish. I have several new clients who are willing to endure your way of pleasure so, they have volunteered.”   
He was led down a hall and into a large room. Standing against the wall were both men and women of varying heights and sizes. Sherlock wasn't picky when it came to this kind of thing, he just wanted it over with.  
It never mattered if it was a woman or a man he used as long as they could take what he gave out.  
“Take you're time.” The owner stepped to the side and allowed him to peruse.  
The first man was tall, about his height but weighed several stone more. He wouldn't do at all, there was to much of him. The woman who was next wouldn't be able to handle what he had in store for them, even if she thought she could.  
As he stepped to each person he studied their features, their physical stature wasn't more then a way of determining if they could handle him or not. It had nothing to do with attraction.  
Sherlock came to a man who seemed very well built. His hair was sandy blond and he stood about a head shorter. He was muscular, stood straight and held his head about even with eyes forward.  
A slight twitch of his cheek gave away a smile that Sherlock held back as best he could. Military. That wasn't the most interesting thing about this man however. It was the idea that he felt he needed to shield himself with a mask.  
“This one.” He stated pointing at the man. Without waiting for a response from his host Sherlock grabbed the soldier by the wrist and started to drag him down the hall. He knew where his room was, it was a standing order the he got the last room on the left always.  
When they entered the room the door was closed heavy and locked. The soldier stood absolutely still as he waited.   
Sherlock circled him several times like an animal who had trapped his pray.  
“Interesting how a soldier would turn to such a method of sexual release. I would have thought a man fresh out of military service would not want to be ordered about.” Sherlock stopped behind him.  
“It is my desire to full fill the desires of those who control me.” His voice was smooth and confident. Again another quick smile flashed on Sherlock's face.  
“You are willing to do anything?” Sherlock stepped closer, his hand pressed against the back of the man's neck. His fingers spread as they ran through his shortly cropped hair.  
“I will do what you wish.” The voice was huskier, he was already anticipating the pleasures.  
“Take down your pants. Naked on the bed, face down.” he ordered and watched as everything was obeyed. His new temporary companion stripped everything without looking back. He lay face down on the bed taking it upon himself to spread his arms over his head and his legs wide to the corners.  
Sherlock bit his lip. This man was different then the others he'd had.   
Moving to the bed Sherlock laced up the wrists pulling them tight. He watched the back and shoulder muscles flex and felt a burning in his stomach. Swallowing to keep himself in check he moved to the ankles and did the same.  
Examining his pray he felt his body respond. Normally it took to the whip faze before he was nearly completed, this man already had him hard and they'd not yet begun.  
“Do you wish for me to tell you what I am about to do?” Sherlock reached out to touch the flexing shoulder muscles and found a scar. He knew right away that it was a bullet scar. Reached out he loosened the one restraint giving a touch of relief.  
“If you wish.” The man was so calm. Sitting on the edge of the bed Sherlock had to gather his thoughts. Each night he arrived at this place he was here to simply get it over with however, this night, this man was doing something to him.  
“I will begin with a paddle.” Sherlock took off his coat and hung it on the chair. He rolled his sleeves and picked up the black paddle. He fitted it into his hand and made sure that the padding was perfectly aimed.   
Without warning he struck. The slap echoed the room and instantly there was red. When he struck again he paid closer attention to the man receiving it. A gasp then a soft moan. He struck three more times before placing the paddle back on the table.  
Sitting against the man's hip he aloud his hands to softly caress the burning tissue. The man's head hung and he purred. Sherlock swallowed then stood again.  
“I will continue now with the flogger and will end with the crop.” He stated coldly even though, deep inside him he was burning with desire.   
This was a new experience. A willing participant. The others would argue that he was being to violent, that no one could withstand three attacks in one sitting. Usually he needed from then one pray in order to be full filled.  
He picked up the flogger and looked at the man. His body was tense, his hands in fists as he waited for the next strike.  
“What may I call you?” Sherlock asked keeping his distance from the bed.  
“John.”   
Sherlock nodded in silence. With that he stepped to the bed and brought the flogger down. His first strike was soft, only causing slight tingling on the already red ass. He moved down the legs a bit and watched the muscles jump as they were struck.  
He didn't linger on the flogger long, he wanted to get to his crop. This was his tool, his sexual release would be soon.  
Taking up the crop in hand he ran the leather tip along the muscular back.  
“John.” He said as a statement. He liked the name.  
Sherlock watched the muscles tense as the crop danced across the soft skin. He noted the natural tan of the soldier and then noticed that there was no line between tan and his ass. The thought of this soldier naked sun bathing drop his cock straight in his pants.  
He placed the crop on the edge of the bed. Leaning forward he used his hands on the soft skin and smiled as John reacted to his touch. He'd never gotten a reaction from any of the others when he touched them.  
“You're hand are soft.” Moaned John arching his back for more of the touch. Sherlock drew in a sharp breath at the obvious desire that was expelling from the soldier.  
His hands dug into the muscles as John's head arched back with a gasp. Sherlock watched his own fingers as they traced down toward the tight muscular ass and gripped tightly. It was as if he was no longer in control of his own body.  
John's response sent Sherlock raging. He arched his ass upward into the hands and exposed his entrance pleading to be invaded.  
His heart was in his ears, his cock was soaking his shorts. Sherlock had never felt the requirement to penetrate any of his other pray. Dear god, he had lost nearly all his senses and it felt miraculous.   
“Tell me what to say.” John said breathless. “What do I call you? What do you want me to do? I will do anything you wish.”   
Sherlock stammered for a moment.   
“Sherlock.” He stated without really thinking. He'd given his real name, he wondered then if John was the name of his pray. Was he really pray anymore? He'd always kept a distance, considered those he used as pray it was easier to dismiss what he did.  
“Sherlock.” Moaned John as he used his knees to raise his ass higher. “Do what you want with me.” he begged.  
He was losing control of both the situation and himself. Sherlock felt he ergs that he'd trained himself for so many years to never want. He wanted to feel this man against him, skin on skin. He wanted to know the warmth inside his ass.  
“Will you let me use the crop?” He croaked. This was a requirement of release. If he was even considering physical contact with John he needed to get out the rest of his pleasures. He needed to see the red lash marks on the soft skin.  
“Yes. Use it. Let me feel it's kiss against my skin. I want you to feel release.” John begged.  
Taking a step back Sherlock starred at the man. He was wreathing in pleasure and pleading for pain. His cock was slightly against the bed but it was swollen and leaking, Sherlock reached down to his pants and rubbed himself.  
The first lashing was hard, he saw the blood right away and regretted his violence. John cried out and pushed against the bed then started to gyrate against the sheets. The second strike was a bit gentler and just under the first.   
Sherlock continued until there were five very bright red burning marks. He couldn't take it anymore.  
“I'm going to come Sherlock.” John whimpered. “Please let me come.”  
Sherlock's breath caught in his throat. He was pleading for release, begging his master to allow him to let go.  
“Not until I come.” He ordered and got a whimper in reply. “John.” He reached out and touched the arm lash marks. “I have never felt the ergs that you draw from me. I have never wanted to feel the warmth of another.”   
“Feel me around you. Put your cock inside me and feel me.” John begged and at the same time gave his permission. Sherlock gasped and stepped, more like stumbled from the bed. He fell into the chair and stared at the man.  
Deep brown eyes caught his and he saw both passion and desire. A connection was made in that moment, a connection that Sherlock thought was impossible for him to make with anyone. He felt his heart burning and knew that this man, this soldier had to be his.  
He needed more from this soldier, more then a single night could provide him. He wanted this soldier with him all the time, against him, chained to him with the invisible leash that was held by a master.  
Standing from the chair he tore off his shirt and pants. As he glided onto the bed he snatched the bottle of lubrication from the side table.   
“Give yourself to me John.” He said with a squirt of lubrication down the crack of the soldiers ass.  
“Yes.” John gasped and pulled at his ankle restraints.  
“Let me take you John. Give you're entire being to me.” His finger traced through the lubrication and started a gradual push into the puckered entrance.  
“Yes. I will be yours.” The admission of desire to be owned caught Sherlock a bit even though he'd asked for it. It was odd that these feelings had welled up with him so quickly but the willingness to forfeit ones freedoms to a stranger was strange to him.  
Though he felt it necessary to explain what he was meaning his attention was drawn away when he felt John push back against his still finger. His mind was completely distracted as he watched his thin long finger disappear into the tight muscular ass.  
He leaned forward and kissed. As his finger slipped back out he reached down beside him and untied one of his soldiers ankles. Right away John got his leg under him and pushed back hard.  
“You are eager for one a stranger to penetrate you.” Sherlock stated as he pulled his finger away and slipped two inside. John wasn't loose but he wasn't exactly a virgin either. Sherlock had to guess that long stints in the service with only men around caused a little homosexuality to occur.  
“You aren't a stranger to me. I feel the connection I want to be yours. Own me Sherlock I will be your slave, your toy, your good boy.” There was so much emotion in the words, in John's voice was Sherlock nearly released.   
He couldn't hold back any longer, he needed to be inside John. Reached down he untied the other ankle and watched as the soldier positioned himself opening his entrance and inviting Sherlock inside.  
Lubricating himself liberally Sherlock rested the head of his cock against the puckered entrance.  
“Take off my mask.” John turned his head as best he could. “See me as you take ownership of my being.”   
Sherlock leaned forward and as he removed the mast and saw the face of the man he had grown to desire so much his cock penetrated and slipped deep inside. The brown eyes full of lust closed and a gasp of pure bliss escaped the full lips.  
Pushing until his hips rested against the warm marked ass Sherlock felt something he'd never though possible. He felt as though his soul was completed.   
He allowed his cock to slip to the edge then pushed back inside moving slowly as he relished in the warmth of what he hoped he would own. As his hips moved his hands trailed the toned body, he was careful not to aggravate the one spot that he knew he'd gone to far. After they were finished he would tend to John and make sure that the injury would heal.  
Moving faster he felt he build of his orgasm and disappointment struck him. When he had come and aloud John to come would this be the end? Was everything that had been said just part of the act? He didn't want to finish quickly but his body was once again betraying him.  
“Sherlock.” His attention was drawn forward. John's head was tilted so he could see behind him.  
Sherlock leaned and pushed their lips together. It was sloppy and uncomfortable but he could taste tea and sugar with a hint of something else. He'd never before wanted to kiss someone, woman or man alike. He never wanted to feel their lips against his or the moisture that was exchanged.  
His body moved faster and his hand gripped at the short hair. Leaning back he arched John's back and slammed him harder.  
In a matter of minutes he was ready to release. He pulled out and heard the disappointment from John but it was to late. Stroking himself almost violently he watched his white seed spill from his head and across the red marks on John's back.  
His body twitched as he milked his cock dry. Nearly ready to collapse he reached around and took John in his hand.  
“Come for me.” He said into the soldier's ear and instantly felt the sticky liquid against his fingers.  
“Sherlock.” John screamed as his entire body shook.  
After about a minute Sherlock was able to move again. He quickly rushed to the a joining bathroom and gathered two wet clothes a towel. Upon returning he carefully untied John's arms and helped the man sit on the edge of the bed.   
He wiped himself off and pulled on his shorts then started to tend to John. Careful not to case to much pain he wiped up the sensitive cock and began tending to John's back.  
“Would you be more comfortable laying down fully? I would like to make sure that this cut is well cleaned and patched.” Sherlock stated.  
“It'll be fine.” John said with a smile. Sherlock starred at the lips and remembered their kiss, he suddenly hoped that this had not all be just a game.  
“Really I would like to make sure.” He argued. John looked over and their eyes met again, this time there was no passion and no lust. There was however a caring and a touch of fear.  
John nodded his head and lay out on the bed. Sherlock made sure that the cut was cleaned and dried properly. He also patched it tight and not really thinking about it he kissed the area.  
Sitting on the edge of the bed he felt an uncomfortable silence and wanted to run from it but strangely enough he wanted to take John with him. Even though it was the silence between them that was uncomfortable.   
“John Watson.”   
Sherlock looked over to find John sitting beside him again.  
“Sherlock Holmes.” His eyes fell to the floor.  
“Tell me what I felt wasn't just a dream. Tell me that what we said wasn't just a game.”   
He heard the fear in the soldiers voice. John Watson wanted this as much as Sherlock did and he was feeling the same uncertainty.  
“I do not wish for it to be over and I never say anything that I don't mean.”   
“Even in the thralls of passion?”   
“I have never known passion until tonight.” Sherlock looked over. John was smiling. His cheeks were pink and his eyes twinkled. Sherlock's lips parted and he leaned in and kissed John.  
“I meant every word.” John said against his lips.  
“Then we should get dressed and be on our way.” Sherlock stood and offered his hand. John took it and stood with him. “Of course I have rules that you must follow.”  
“Yes.” John pulled on his shorts.  
“You will live with me and I will provide everything you need. Clothing and anything else will need my approval. I will also provide you with a cuff that is to be worn at all times.” Sherlock was nearly dressed. He turned to find John still standing there in his shorts.  
He frowned.  
“This is what I walked in with.” John smiled. “My clothes are in another room.”  
“Yes of course.” Sherlock finished with his coat. John stepped up to him and smoothed the deep purple shirt against his chest.  
His hard expression softened as he watched the chocolate brown eyes examine him for the first time.  
“We will collect your things.” Sherlock wrapped his arm securely around John and felt the warmth in his stomach flair. John Watson fit perfectly against his hip.


End file.
